I think, ultimately, many of us will come to a rude awakening—that there's no one coming to save us.
If we're lucky, a Rapunzel, or two, or many, may let down their hair and urge us to stand, to climb, to...fight; and it is wondrous, the strength that can lend us, but nothing happens without that pivotal movement of our will...without that 'Yes, let's'.
Amidst the drunkenness of a Friday night and the varied kindred paths we take to escape what is real, time goes on with those sure, steady footfalls of hers—with or without us.
Sometimes, we're not so lucky to have another beating heart rooting for us. And I hope that on those days, we find just enough grit to take a step—just the one—and then, perhaps, another, and then one more...just one more.